


Wheat Fields

by tenderwrites



Series: Wildflowers [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: City Boy Lucien, Country Boy Jane, Farmers au, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Swear Words, War Slang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderwrites/pseuds/tenderwrites
Summary: It's quite the normal day on the farm with Jane, his sister Jesse, and his dog, but there's a new addition to the scenery: a new foreign neighbour whose son is all types of imperfect perfection. Jane meets him by chance and gains a new important person in his life. It seems very risky to just fall in love with an acquaintance, but as fate decides it, he makes a few important decisions.Packed full of swears and childish humour for the average teenager to enjoy. (Or kid, if you're interested.)





	Wheat Fields

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Farmers AU, the lame name that I came up with for this idea I thought of for this bittersweet alternate reality where Soldier is a 17 year old boy that lives in Midwest, USA and Spy is also a 17 year old boy, and moves in next to Jane for the brief respite of the holidays. They meet through an impromptu introduction of themselves and their pets and as wildly cliche as it sounds, they take a liking to each other at first sight. 
> 
> Hope you like this! This will be the first of many stories in a series.

“Hold up! Hold up! They’re going full Archie!”

Scattered bullet shells fell over the gray sky like flightless birds and the quiet cries of fallen pilots and their giant companions could not be heard over the massive din of orange explosions. Jane crouched over in the dank and dark trench, with only his fellow bunkmates for company and a measly helmet and rifle to protect him, bracing the gunfire and endless shouting ringing in his ears. He looked beside him, expecting to see the grime-filled faces of his friends, but all he saw was an empty trench strewn with bodies with their guts spilling out as if they were a stream or a river by the countryside.

“Guys?” He’d asked quietly, in fear of exposing himself to any potential spies, but all he got was a sudden silence across the windswept and torn landscape. Keeping his rifle poised, he eased himself out of the trench and trudged across the muddy field, his boots taking every footstep with calculation. Strangely enough, all fire between the two sides had ceased, the only remains on the battlefield being the occasional breeze or the bullet shells sundering across the grassy plains.

If this was all part of the stinking Nazis’ plan to hatch an ambush against his honorable platoon, he’d be damned. He had never seen such exotic war tactics before, even in his wild and uncontrollable platoon, Jane would have popped his eyes out in a cartoonish way at such brilliant yet twisted advancements by the enemy.

He took a few more steps towards the north direction and a slight movement on the ground had him cursing and swearing frighteningly, and when he came face to face with the sneaky bastard, his peachy red face drained of all its colour. The unmistakable face of a German, basking in all his glory with his red swastika and long-nosed Karabiner, had his thin, bony face and ridiculous moustache staring into Jane’s blue eyes and his gun pressed up against the proud American’s neck.

“ _Auf wiedersehen, abschaum._ ” He spat at Jane, readying himself for the fatal shot. “ _Irgendwelche letzten worte_?”

“I do, actually.” Jane carried his potentially dead self with confidence, dumping his life-saving gun on the ground and holding the puzzled Nazi by the shoulders. Nothing could have prepared him better than this but the torturing and emotional incapacitating guerilla training and exercises, and he prided himself in being able to come up top among other runts and pancake flippers.

“Wake up!”

\---

“Jane, come on! Wake up! Mom says if you don’t wake up to greet the new neighbours your ass is gonna get fried.” The fervent scoldings of a younger sibling punctuated Jane’s ears, and he tossed over to the other side to face the peeling wall and his multiple posters of irregular people of all shapes and sizes. Not that he was using them for wank material, of course not. He was just interested in how odd and ripped they looked, that’s all. Way to go, Jane, for revealing your true nature just when the story is beginning to develop!

“Fuck off, Jesse...tell Mom you can do it yourself. You’re already 15 goddamn years old, you twit.” He mumbled sleepily and buried his head in the pillow, irritated that his exciting wartime dream was already interrupted and that his first debut as a heroic soldier was cut into two. Honestly, he could care less about bringing a bouquet of flowers or some fruit basket over to greet his new and possibly grumpy neighbours, since his previous ones weren’t too happy about the purposefully blown up living room or countless broken windows where baseballs were definitely not involved. Being a rebellious delinquent aside, Jane was promptly pulled out of bed by enormous force, crashing to the floor with the covers and a brown, dog-eared book labelled ‘Sun Tzu: Art of War’.

“Guess who’s the one out of bed now? A lazy ass soldier-in-training who won’t even wake up at the crack of dawn to milk the damn cows.” Jesse smirked smugly, knowing that she had the upper hand over her older brother and was about to be chased out of an unkempt and dirty room governed by the forces only known as Jane Doe.

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that? A helping-me-milk-the-cows piece of shit.” He finally rubbed at his worn out eyes and flashed a small thankful smile at his sister, tugging on a singlet and pants and running down the rickety old stairs in pursuit of breakfast and the likeliness that the resident Mrs Doe would be less of a Grinch and be more cheerful in lieu of the new people moving in next door. Predictably, the motherly figure had her back towards the two childish teenagers and the waft of cookies was emanating from the oven, so Jane was missing the nags of ‘Go brush your hair’ or ‘Straighten out your attire’.

If the army had these kind of commanders and generals, he could tolerate it for the sake of being a gallant and noble soldier, but if he had to stay at home and face his mother’s incessant rants, he would go brain dead for sure. Gulping down a glass of milk and squeezing a piece of slightly burnt toast into his mouth, he jogged to the door and slipped on his mud-caked sneakers, not bothering to tie his shoelaces.

“Jane! Jane!” He groaned, and stopped before sprinting off towards the back of the house.

“What? What is it?”

“I bought you a few new baseballs. They’re at the shed. Go wild.” Mother and son both shared mischievous grins, before Jane ran off into the sunlight and beckoned the incoming German Shepherd to follow him. Almost tearing open the shed door, he marvelled at the 4 new baseballs sitting obediently beside the shovels and he snatched them up swiftly, sitting down on the tire swing behind the shed area and rocked back and forth while gazing at the fanatically curious dog running around him.

“Seems like you’re a little too excited about today, Dwight. What’s gotten into you, you crazy dog?” Dwight regarded this with frantic tail wagging and happy barks, jumping in the air and circling his own tail in enjoyment, while Jane sat there, completely befuddled by the Shepherd’s behaviour. Never before had he seen his family’s dog so compassionate about the day, or anything for that matter. Dwight usually was by Jesse’s side, or was helping Jane herd the sheep flock for meal time, and his blank expression was a normal thing to behold.

Eh, he probably found some secret stowaway of an insect nest or something. Ant nests were plentiful out in the countryside, as well as rats, termites and spiders the size of monstrosity. He wasn’t too scared of them; they were so tiny compared to him anyway. Jesse used to be absolutely shell-shocked at the sight of them, but now, with her becoming a dexterous teenager, she moved on to other things to be scared of, such as the radio failing to play or not being able to go outside with Dwight on rainy days. The poor dog had to be kept under the porch, since the woman of the household could not stand the mud being tracked onto the carpet.

In his delirious abandonment, the Shepherd took off with dust and dirt trailing behind him, kicking up a storm and adding yet another wave of disarray in his path.

“Dwight, what the hell? Get your blooming ass back here!” The American boy chased after the maniacal dog and tried to keep track of the speeding psycho, but lost him in the dusty fog and long, winding wheat fields growing near the house. Panting, Jane coughed and coughed in the blinding wind, feeling a rush of panic swell over him. If he’d gone and let Dwight go run himself silly in some secluded field, Jane would have his throat slit instantly by Jesse. That dog was practically the girl’s soulmate and they were inseparable, skin to fur, and hand to paw. He was a man (almost) with desperate needs to join the American army, and if he were to be murdered ruthlessly by his beloved sister, Jane could never fulfill his dream and he would lie in his grave, wondering what the hell he could have done to salvage the situation.

Oh, right. Dead people don’t have thoughts. Dumbass.

He scampered off, one baseball in hand and eyes aimlessly searching for a black and white dog among the wild weeds and flowers. For a dog smaller than Jane, he sure could hide himself good, almost like a espionage spy, in fact. With his vivid imagination, the boy began to imagine the Shepherd wearing a paper mask, with someone else’s face on it. Hell, maybe the dog could disguise as him and enter the army in place of him! Fuck, he could never let that happen!

“Dwight! Dwight! You wee lass of a country girl, get your soggy ass back here! You’re not gonna steal my position in the army away, you son of a bitch! Get your insane dog butt back where it belongs!” Jane called out furiously, his grip on the baseball tightening and his eyebrows furrowing. A trickle of sweat flowed from his forehead and it reminded him of the day-to-day chores he had to do, and Mom would probably be out back at the shed trying to look for the seemingly ‘unstoppable stubborn boy who could not be restrained’.

 _You’re wrong. I_ **_can_ ** _be restrained. I’ll prove it to you!_

Jane came to a clearing not too far from his house and stooped to pick up his ‘stress ball’, and when he stood up again to swipe his windswept hair back into place, he came face-to-face with a shorter adolescent that looked to be about his age, and he was beaming as bright as the blinding sun itself. In front of a stranger, he recollected himself immediately and hid his anger, suddenly becoming self-conscious of his frowzy appearance and blushed glaringly with mortification. The mysterious boy chortled and widened his smile, the sunlight casting a shadow over his neatly pressed overalls and smoothened hair.

 _"Bonjour_."

Jane nearly gave out a shriek at the boy’s brave demeanour and foreign language, dropping his already dirtied ball once again and scooting three feet away from the strange boy.

“Who the heck are you? _What_ the heck are you?” He made out a few audible words and ignored all presences except the boy, altogether failing to make a good impression of himself in front of others and embarrassing himself to make the whole situation worse. Seriously, who calls a human being a thing? He chided himself, trying not to brighten up like a fresh tomato at having being caught unaware. This was just like his dream last night! The damned Fritz snuck up on him and tried to blow his windpipe out, but thankfully, he’d gotten the upper hand and surprised the smelly Nazi with a classic neck snap, or that’s how it would have gone if Jesse hadn’t woken him up so early.

“Well, to answer your questions, I’m your new neighbour for a short period of time, and on the account of what I am, I’m a human being as well. Now why don’t you introduce yourself and we can become acquaintances? Also, your dog is here by the way.” Dwight appeared behind the neighbour and Jane leaped at him, tumbling in the dirt with him and tasting the sweet flavour of morning dew on green leaves.

“You asshole! Jesse would have killed me if you had run off.” Jane ruffled his fur and embraced the foul smelling bod of a dog, burying his face in the dog’s stomach in relief. Dwight stuck his tongue out in anticipation, his attention clearly somewhere else and not on its kind and loyal owner. “Oh, uh, my name’s Jane, but you can call me...Jane, I guess.”

_Fuck. How many times can I screw this up?_

“That’s a nice name, Jane. Mine’s Lucien.” The boy giggled at his silliness, and Jane swore he heard his stomach exploding into a swarm of butterflies. To Jane’s surprise, the boy didn’t make fun of his girly name, or bully him for being so nonsensical in a friendly conversation such as this.

“Is that German?” He asked apprehensively, wary that he might be falling into a another weird deja vu experience affiliated with his dreams.

“French, actually. Were you wondering where your dog went?”

“Yeah, he ran off suddenly and I was afraid my sister would murder me if I lost him like that. How did you find him?” The swear words were gone from Jane’s mouth and he felt a new feeling of nervousness hit him in front of such a well-dressed person and suave face. He swore it was just the occasional social anxiety, but then the warm feel still remained on his cheeks and he felt obliged to speak properly and stand up straight, as if he were in front of a teacher or headmaster.

“Oh, he was chasing after my cat.” Sure enough, a flustered-looking white cat appeared behind Lucien and it reminded Jane of the Frenchie, both very well-groomed and cunning-like features embedded in their faces.

“Did Dwight harm her in any way?”

“Oh no, I don’t think so. I think he was chasing her for other purposes.” Jane observed the boy in front of him and saw the steel blue of wired fences and overcast skies, and found in them a new world in which he could see something outside of his military addiction and carefree attitude. Under the gel of the boy’s hair, Jane stared at his jet black hair, a far cry from his wheat coloured crew cut and the pale, fair skin of Lucien’s face, which was flashing an easy smile at his own cat. He looked smart and was probably smart too, his eyes screaming an endless knowledge of the outside world. Maybe he had gone to the city and lived there, and was able to enjoy all of the luxuries the city offered to them. He was even from France, where Jane heard was a paradise to be living in, where the finest wine and food resided and the most appealing sights waited for sightseers to drink in their scenery.

Maybe he should stop talking to a person of such high standards and go back to play with his baseballs and Dwight. He could never hope to live up to his neighbour’s wealth or manners! Lowering his head disappointingly, he turned his back to go and do his unfinished chores.

“I think it’s time for me to go, Lucien. Catch you around later.” Jane beckoned Dwight to follow him and the Shepherd trotted over dutifully, the large dog trailing after him like a bodyguard loyal to his owner.

“Wait.” Jane turned around expectantly, a bored glint in his eyes hiding a fiery want to stay back and talk to his new neighbour some more. Maybe they could even be friends! Or more, for that matter. It didn’t matter anyway. Every dashing boy he had come across either ridiculed him, rejected him, or threw mud in his face. Some gentlemanly ways they had.

In retrospect, he spouted swear words like a broken fountain and his sanitary ways could be questioned as well, but he always listened and respected when he needed to and gave his due sympathy to orphans or whatever needy people he had chanced upon while riding his bicycle.

“What?” He spoke curiously, having no idea of what juicy things were in store for him or what he could have expected from a debonair adolescent such as Lucien.

“Me and my family are having a neighbourly gathering tomorrow, and...um. You can show up with your family if you want.” The red hue on Lucien’s face was more imminent now, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot in uneasiness, facing the ground as if in worry that it would open up and swallow him whole in one big mouthful. Jane gawked at the cute, blushing boy and began to sweat furiously in his palms, wiping them on his pants and resisting the urge to pet Lucien’s trim hair.

“Y-Yeah. I can go after all my chores.” He offered a smile, but that only served to fluster Lucien even more.

“Sure. See you then.” A new sparkle in Lucien’s eyes gave Jane the affirmation he needed and the boy wanted oh so badly to hold his hand to calm his neighbour down, maybe erase the ruddiness on Lucien’s cheeks, or maybe he could tousle his hair to give him peace of mind?

He didn’t need to think for very long, as the clicking sound of Lucien’s dress shoes alarmed Jane and he was about to say something, but a rude pair of pink lips cut his speech ability off and suddenly, he could enter the world of his neighbour’s eyes and see constellations and giant blue whales swimming in the endless depths of sea water. He would be exaggerating it a little, but he thought he saw 4th of July fireworks and lights shining in front of him.

“So, see you around?” Lucien’s eyes were hopeful gleams, and Jane, being the intelligent teenager he was, nodded dumbly and stared into space as if he could witness an American flag being placed on another planet far off in the galaxy. It was only after Dwight started to chew at his shoelaces then he realised what he just been through, and he did a triumphant fistpump in the air.

_Sweet! First kiss, hands down! Suck it Jesse!_

“So, coming out of the old closet are we?” A smug female voice came from behind Jane, and he smacked his face with his palm annoyingly.

“Piss off, Jesse!”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Archie - German anti-aircraft fire  
> Karabiner - German rifle used by the Schutz-Staffel  
> Auf wiedersehen, abschaum. - Goodbye, scum.  
> Irgendwelche letzten worte? - Any last words?  
> Pancake flippers - Motherfuckers  
> Blooming - Bloody  
> Wee lass of a country girl - Cunt 
> 
> Also, Dwight's name comes from the US President Dwight D. Eisenhower's name. Soldier is basically a US Army/American culture fanatic in this universe. 
> 
> (I did too much research for this fic lmao I have too many tabs open on my computer)


End file.
